I'm Just A Human
by KagomeMiroku
Summary: I wasn't a clean-up boy, I wasn't a werewolf, I was a musician, an artist, and nothing else mattered in the world. Nothing but the music...   TonksxLupinxSirius
1. Chapter 1

**I'm Just A Human**

_A/N: Okay, so just in case you get confused, James and Lily are alive in this. The Order defeated Voldemort back before he could destroy them, so the Potter's are all well and alive, and Peter was sent to Azkaban for conspiring with the Death Eaters._

_Tonks is 19, but I made Remus and the Marauders in their... Mid-twenties, maybe. Around there. I know the difference is more than that, but I altered it slightly for the sake of my story, I hope you guys don't mind too much._

_So yeah, I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter One: **

* * *

Was it possible for a floor to gain dirt the more you wiped at it? The mop soaked up the water in the bucket, rinsed out a bit, then spread across the dusty, hardwood floor as Jill chewed my ear out with her babbling. She was going to be big, she was going to make it, everything I heard on a regular basis with her. She'd blow a bubble, I'd nod my head and continue with my work, despite the fact it wasn't getting any cleaner as the hours progressed.

Hours, minutes, seconds; they all dragged on with Jill sitting there. I couldn't very well pull out my wand and magic the place clean with a Muggle lazying around.

"My daddy always said to never give up, to keep on trying. I swear, if my daddy knew what I did to get my gigs... Times are tough, right John?"

Her feet kicked against the stage, but I didn't look up at the use of my middle name. She found my proper name too hard, too much of a struggle, so she insisted on John instead, but I didn't protest. It wasn't as though I didn't mind, because it did bother me, as much as I played it off like it didn't, but I was just too tired to pay her the thought, to correct her for the thousandth time, just to receive the same reply over and over. It was easier, as she put it. This was easier too. Ignore it.

Sighing heavily, my eyes darted over to where her red heels clacked against the wood flood, then up to her figure stretching and yawning, I couldn't suppress a yawn in return. Contagious, people tended to classify the yawn, but I blamed it on simply being tired. Tired, overworked, paid little. It was all I had, all I could do, my payment to the place for letting me play. I'd clean, after all the performances of the night, and I'd get to keep my regular spot on the evening line up. Plus, they tended to pay me extra, Mr. Jones being an understanding man and all, for cleaning up after everything. I did a thorough job, he'd say, and then he'd ask my secret. My reply would be honest, magic, and still he'd chuckle in his ignorance, and I'd inwardly smirk at just how clueless he really was.

"Heading out soon, John?" Jill's hands rested on her hips after fixing her skirt that was riding up her thigh. It wasn't like I was staring intentionally, it was obviously noticeable. "It's getting late."

"When I'm done." I replied, moving the mop in circles around the same area I stood in for what seemed like hours. The dirt clung to the floor like a magnet. "I earn the money I get."

She scoffed, her honey eyes narrowing at me as she stepped forward, stepping hard against the floor. _Click, click, clack!_ She stood before me, leaning in close so that her nose was inches from mine, giving me a look of distaste as though I had offended her. I had, but whether it was meant to offend or not, I was still unaware. I hadn't anything against her, but I wasn't particularly Jill's biggest fan either. So I stared back at her, looking unimpressed, or so I thought, though mainly looking tired, worn out. Mr. Jones and Richie, a guitarist, both commented on how tired I was. I hadn't been getting much sleep lately. In all honestly, I don't think I ever did get enough sleep.

Yawning again, I went back to mopping. She spit on the floor and left, walking hard as she did so. I waited for the heavy, metal doors to slam shut before I dropped my mop to the floor and hopped up on the edge of the stage. The place was a mess. Cups and candles sat scattered and lit on the little tables, crumbs haloing around them from the food that those attending the performances ate earlier. I had to clean that, all of it. The cups, the tables, the chairs, pile everything neatly and fixed perfect for the following night so everything could simply fall back into the aftermath it underwent every night. Luckily, Richie would end up with it for the remainder of the week and into the next, just like he was put with for once every two weeks, every month.

"I have sleep study, I'm allowing them to experiment on me, to try to cure me."

Was my excuse, although it was far from the honesty I normally gave Jones. I found it funny, no one at work realised I left every week around the same time, around the full moon. Perhaps it was a small detail to some, but the biggest detail in my entire absence. My condition, my change, my problem, why I left was because of the moon. What the moon's affect had on me, on a werewolf. I couldn't trust myself around that time, and I normally cut it close just for the sake of having the money, of needing the money, and what's done was done.

Pulling my wand out from my deep pocket, I gave it a flick and everything seemed to fall into his proper place. The sinks, the strainers, against the wall, flattened on the tables, blown out; leaving me in darkness for the moment, until I murmured "_Lumos_." under my breath, emanating light from my wand and illuminating the room. I gave it a glance over and summoned a candle from one of the tables, walking over to the piano placed left-center of the stage. Blue flames erupted from my wand and lit the candle. Placing it on top of the piano, I sat down on the bench and lifted the lid, letting my calloused fingers press against the black and white keys.

I smiled. Something rare from me, unless I was in my place, on my bench, my fingers sliding aimlessly against the keys, yet following a rhythm without them even realising it. I played a tune, notes memorized in my head to songs I knew by heart, playing against the keys and filling the air with the euphoria I felt whenever I sat down at that bench, in front of the instrument, and poured my emotions into all I did. I wasn't a clean-up boy, I wasn't a werewolf, I was a musician, an artist, and nothing else mattered in the world. Nothing but the music.

The story of my life told in notes the piano played. From childhood, starting from the only vivid memory I had, at the age of four. My father got on the wrong side with the wrong person, having the damned werewolf come and take it out on me. Cursed, I was cursed, forevermore plagued with the burden of being a werewolf. Protected, constantly my parents sheltered me from the world, but then I made friends at the age of eleven. Friends who accepted me (despite being weary at first, but who wouldn't be?) and cared for me through all the tough times. The death of my mother, the rising of a Dark Lord, the loss of my father... And then, for a while, I felt alone. My best mates considered me conspiring against them, finally giving into my wolf instincts and falling in line with Greyback in his pack. They were wrong, but Peter did it. Peter almost gave up our beloved friends, but we took down the man who wanted them before he could do them any harm.

And then there I was, sitting with a hobby I was brought to at the young age of seven, sheltered in my home with nothing but this instrument. It gave me comfort in my darkest moments, and I knew I could always turn to it. And I always did. It was safety, it was home, it was what I knew best. The black and white keys of the piano, the tune each key made.

C, D, G, the heel to my hand rested against the keys. I blew the fire out.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm Just A Human**

_A/N: Okay, so just in case you get confused, James and Lily are alive in this. The Order defeated Voldemort back before he could destroy them, so the Potter's are all well and alive, and Peter was sent to Azkaban for conspiring with the Death Eaters._

_Tonks is 19, but I made Remus and the Marauders in their... Mid-twenties, maybe. Around there. I know the difference is more than that, but I altered it slightly for the sake of my story, I hope you guys don't mind too much._

_So yeah, I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Two: **

* * *

Keys jingled from my pocket as I locked up. The cold air pierced my skin, my fingers through my fingerless gloves, the wholes in my jeans, my scarfless neck. It was bitter out and I was unprepared, but I didn't mind the snow as much as others; watching it glisten in the starlight, buring bright and white against the contrasting dark sky. I shoved my fists in the pockets of my worn out, brown leather coat, and I started down the street towards my flat, my breath clearly viseable in the air.

My eyes always tended to advert away from the moon, be it at any stage in it's cycle. Was it wrong that the only type of moon I wanted to see, was the moon that changed me to what I hated, to what I had been since I was four years young for something I hadn't even done. The full moon had me curious, but I never saw it, never remembered what it looked like- The real thing at least. Drawings, paintings, discriptions were all nothing to the real thing that I only saw with the eyes of the beast, never properly.

A shaky cough escaped my chapped lips and my stomach grumbled. This job I had didn't only pay me with the money I so desperately needed, but with the food I needed as well. I was normally starved, so they fed me. I didn't even care about the quality of the food in the dingy little performance area, only that they gave me enough that I survived, that I was actually to the brink of being full, at least once a day.

During the day, when I wasn't at the club performing or cleaning, I was privately tutoring Muggle children in English lessons. No matter how many jobs I had, it was still just barely enough to scrape the rent every month, all low-paying jobs obviously. But I survived, somehow, and my best mate Sirius tended to pride himself in the fact that I was surviving on his sake. Obviously, the bloke was unaware that the money he kept lying around the flat, or the money he deducted from my half of the rent, went back to him ultimately in the end. I was completely capeable of doing things for myself.

I unlocked the door to the apartment building, then started up the spiral steps to the top floor. It was a large apartment, two small bedrooms, a bathroom, and a large living space clattered with sofas and the kitchen and dining areas. Sirius, having grown up with all things lavish up until the age of sixteen, made sure we didn't live like complete deadbeats and had our apartment classed up, claiming he took it from his mum's place if I'd ask. I never did ask though.

On one of the plush sofas, curled up under a knitted blanket, rested a large, shaggy black dog, sound asleep. I looked him over, wishing I could so easily fall into the slumber he rested in, and just stay asleep for however long I wished, undisturbed by nightmares, my thoughts, my being... Just sleep. Sleep.

I fell into one of the recliners on the right side of the sofa, my keys jingling and dropping onto the coffee table, the dog jerking awake slightly. He looked up at me, eyes lidded, but playful and wild just as they always were. And there sat my best mate, seconds late, replacing the sleeping dog under the knit covers, rubbing his eyes and stretching out as the blanket fell over his bare chest.

"Oi, Mooney," he grumbled, practically inaudible. "What's the time?"

"Around midnight."

"Just getting in?"

I nodded, sinking into the comfort of the chair, pulling the lever to have the footrest pop out and the chair to recline back. I closed my eyes as Sirius yawned, closing those grey eyes of his, then most-likely ruffling that black, messy hair. He always thought himself unpredictable, but I found him so easy to figure out, it was almost scary how well I could tell what he was doing behind my back. I figured him out quite quickly when we were attending school together.

"S'like I'm living alone here." He chuckled softly, falling back onto the sofa, probably curling up around the arm. "I'm driving myself insane."

"Now you know how the rest of us feel around you."

I grinned slightly, peeking out under my eyelids to see him grinning back, then pull a look of mock offense. I rolled my eyes, leaning forward to pat his hand, then pulled the blanket from him, wrapping it around myself.

"Oi!" He grabbed the spare from the ontop of the sofa, pulling it around his exposed body, glaring at me."I know you love my body and all, Mooney, but damn it's freezing!"

"Just trying to preserve money."

I mumbled a tad sheepishly at his comment. It was quite cold around her, but I turned the heat down. Our bills were high enough as it was, and I could barely afford what I did. I knew Sirius would object and just try and pay for it himself, always being quite wealthy, reigning from a wealthy family, but I couldn't let him do that. Perhaps I was prideful. Of what?- I wasn't sure. But I couldn't let him do everything for me. I was a big boy now too.

He sighed. "You know I can get it."

"I know."

Then he fell silent, if I didn't know any better I would've thought the loud mouth fell back asleep. But he just sat there, staring at the off-white walls, then stretched and looked over at me, pulling a lazy smile.

"My cousin's coming to stay for a while."

"You've mentioned this."

"I know she's a tad younger, but you two could really hi-"

"No."

He sort of pouted, like you'd expect from a child, like little Harry used to do. But I shook my head. He knew what I was like, what I was, and he very well knew that I refused to get involved with someone because of it. I'd end up hurting them, and if she were to have a child.. Well I couldn't bear with knowing I created a monster, just as Greyback had done to me, but... Worse.

"You know why I can't."

"I know you're an arse."

I raised a brow and he folded his arms. Shaking my head, I stood from my recliner and threw the blanket back over Sirius's body, then walked towards my room.

"G'night, Padfoot."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm Just A Human**

_A/N: Okay, so just in case you get confused, James and Lily are alive in this. The Order defeated Voldemort back before he could destroy them, so the Potter's are all well and alive, and Peter was sent to Azkaban for conspiring with the Death Eaters._

_Tonks is 19, but I made Remus and the Marauders in their... Mid-twenties, maybe. Around there. I know the difference is more than that, but I altered it slightly for the sake of my story, I hope you guys don't mind too much._

_So yeah, I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Three: **

* * *

The curtains were pulled close, my room was dark. I lay in the bed, curled on my side, staring out into the darkness. My eyelids closed then opened then closed then opened and remained partially opened for what seemed like forever until I could finally blink again. I wasn't paying attention to anything, thinking of nothing but the darkness around me, having my mind go blank, but not unsettled.

Rolling over, I threw the quilt from my body and lay there in the cold, sweating. Perhaps I just had natural heat, because I welcomed the inside cold, not nearly as cold as the outside. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to...

I sighed, sitting up in the darkness, making out shadows of shapes from the crack of light seeping in from the doorway. Slowly creeping open, light flooded the floor from the living space, a dark shadow crawling in, closing the door behind it as though it was mannerly. I remained sitting upright, not fazed or frightened by the shape, or the increase in weight on the bed beside me, or even the mass of fluff nuzzling itself by myside. Instead, I lifted a scarred hand to rest on the shadow's head, ruffling the fur between his ears, and laying back down.

"Couldn't sleep, I take it." I mumbled, watching his shadow rise and fall.

He snuggled against me, making a soft whimpering sound. I closed my eyes. Sirius was always more fond of being a dog than being his normal form, and no matter how much I enjoyed my mate's company, I somewhere agreed with him. This presense of Padfoot gave me a sense of comfort, safety; memories flooding back to school from when we were kids, our days in the Shrieking Shack, our days of my transformations.

Padfoot stood on all fours in the corner, fangs bared and growling. He didn't want to hurt me, he wanted to protect me. Prongs, standing tall with his antler's ready to hit me square in the stomach. He wanted to keep me from hurting myself. Wormtail (It was still hard to even think that we were friends with such a fiend), squeaking and nipping at my feet as to confuse me. To distract me long enough so I wouldn't hurt any of them, so I wouldn't hurt myself. Not too badly.

When the night would end, I'd find myself curled up naked on the four poster bed of the shack, my friends sitting in their human forms around me, smiling welcoming, although a look of sympathy always graced their features. My friends, my only friends, my best friends. They weren't ashamed, afraid, or worried of me or for me. They accepted me, and did all that they could to make my experiences less lonely, to make me feel welcomed. It always worked.

Closing my eyes, I draped an arm around Padfoot's midsection, he made a slight bark in response, and his breathing eased to that of sleep. I was a werewolf, I needn't any protection, but it was always comforting to know it was there.

For the next few days I was on edge. The full moon was three days away, so I spent my time locked up in my room, laying around or reorganizing where things were supposed to be, or where I'd rather they were. Sirius would join me every so often, sitting cross-legged in the middle of my floor, leaning back on his elbows as he watched me fret and change the position or things on my desk. He'd have a remark for most things, and brush me off when I barked angerly about it. He knew I didn't mean it, he knew what the transformation did to me.

But he didn't know firsthand. He didn't know that even though the beast wasn't at it's best around the full moon, that it still was always present. That I was always surpressing my wolf urges until it got to hard and I had to disapperate to some secluded forest away from everything. He didn't know the power I felt, the way I felt like I could do anything, that the wolf taunted me about being bound to my mortal feelings, my mortal instincts. The beast wanted me to embrace him and be one with it, but I refused. How I had such control, especially for being bitten so young, I suppose it was hard to tell. But there were times I wanted to just give in...

"Lily invited us over for dinner." Sirius picked up some trinket from under my bed and fiddled with it. "I know how you are around this time, but I accepted. You should come."

"I won't expose Harry to wh-"

"Oh come off it, Mooney."

"No."

"Remus, you're not even tr-"

"I. Said. NO."

He muttered something under his breath and made a nasty face at me, then pushed himself up from the floor and left. I sighed, falling down to sit on the edge of my bed, leaning over to fold my arms on my legs. My eyes closed, pieces of my already greying hair falling in my face. My eyes closed tighter, fists clenching. The transformations just got worse and worse as the years progressed.

I heard the apartment door close moments later, assuming Pads left for the Potter's for dinner. So I stood and stepped out into the other room, looking around at the emptiness, then walking into the kitchen to brew up a cup of tea. It took me a few moments to realise my hands were shaking as I did so; I only waved it off again and continued my task.

My favourite chippped mug was placed on the granite counter, I spun it a few times, reading the faded music notes, letting myself smile slightly. The other Marauder's got it as a gift for me, and I thought of them whenever I hummed the tune over and over that the mug presented for me. I always wanted a piano of my own, but it was costy, so I had to settle for the one at the club. But that was fine, it was better than nothing.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I cradled the cracked mug between my aged hands, and bent to take a sip of the warm drink. The music notes ran rampid through my mind for the rest of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm Just A Human**

_A/N: Okay, so just in case you get confused, James and Lily are alive in this. The Order defeated Voldemort back before he could destroy them, so the Potter's are all well and alive, and Peter was sent to Azkaban for conspiring with the Death Eaters._

_Tonks is 19, but I made Remus and the Marauders in their... Mid-twenties, maybe. Around there. I know the difference is more than that, but I altered it slightly for the sake of my story, I hope you guys don't mind too much._

_So yeah, I hope you enjoy!_

Please review!

**Chapter Four: **

* * *

Just as always, I awoke clueless as to what happened, but I didn't question it. I stretched, groaned, and my shoulders slumped as I tried to recall which tree I left my clothes behind. The cold air nipped at my exposed body, but I was too sore to try and cover myself up, still shivering involuntarily as the sun began to rise.

The sun, how I enjoyed the great ball of fire, eminited light and warmth to this Earth, prolonging my transformations every day as it did so. I preferred it over the moon by far, and chose light over dark without second thought if the option was given. There was a reason I wouldn't ve able to live up in the North, to see countless days of night, I'd go mad.

Of course, I never did remember just what the moon looked like, but whenever I imagined it, it was round and glaring at me. Dark eyes and fangs doodled on it with some sort of black ink, just to show me that the moon hated me, and it was understood. I understood very well how the moon felt about me, it never did me any good, I always seemed to just narrowly avoid it, and yet somewhere I was fascinated with me.

How I confused myself.

"You're getting stronger, mate."

James gave me a lopsided grin as his glasses fell down the bridge of his nose; he handed me my trousers. A noticeable gash was along his cheek, and instantly I something explode in my chest. I hurt him. I hurt both of them, I was sure of it, and I was dangerous. I was always well aware of the fact that I was dangerous, but seeing how dangerous I was... Seeing myself pinned up against my friends, my strong friends, seeing them hurt.

"S'alright, Mooney." he gave a slight chuckle, though it was strained, as he handed me the rest of my clothes. "We're both well aware of what we get ourselves into."

"That doesn't make it any less my fault."

Finishing dressing as quick as I could, James and I apperated back to Pads and my aprtment, only to see the poor sod fast asleep at the kitchen table, surrounded my bandages and creams and oils to numb or clean cuts and pain. I frowned slightly, Prongsie placed a hand on my shoulder, nodded, then said something about getting back to Lily and Harry. I only nodded and sent my love, and he was gone.

My eyes remained glued to Sirius's passed out form over the table, and as I moved closer, I could see the marks I gave him too. He had scratches along his back, some deep enough to scar, running through his tattoos, some still caked with blood. I sighed, walking over to him, tracing my fingertips of old scars I left, then to the fresh ones that were healing. I put him through this, I put them both through this...

What if I slipped up with a woman and forgot it was the full moon (although I was always ontop of that sort of thing), but what if? What if I attacked her? Ripped her to shreds. And what if we had a child. What if, by some chance of fate, he wasn't like me? What if he didn't change, but I did in his presence? ...Images of broken, bloody, disheveled bodies sprawled across the floor played my mind. Children that looked like me, a beautiful wife with long, dark hair. Dead. Dead. And it would be all my fault.

I fell in a chair, wincing at my aching body, and sighed. I couldn't do that to someone. I couldn't bring someone else into this sort of lifestyle. I just... Couldn't.

Sirius twitched, his dark bangs falling in his face. His wild grin was gone, his mouth slightly open with drool making its way out. I smiled small, pushing his hair from his face, but frowning again as I saw a cut along the side of his face. I did this to him. This was... Hard enough. My best mates, constantly putting their lives in danger and... Prongs. Prongs couldn't do this anymore. He had Lily, he had Harry. He couldn't put his life on the line every night of the full moon. I knew Lily, no matter how accepted and loving and kind she was, she didn't want, didn't deserve, wondering if her husband would come back the next day, once every night of the full moon.

"And I thought I was a mess."

Despite staring, I didn't notice his eyes flicker open, or that grin spread back across his face.

"Yes, well, let's not say you're not."

"You look worse."

"I always do."

I always also had a way of making things awkward, didn't I? I could see Sirius shift uncomfortable, but still maintain that large grin, and I just sat there, slumped against the wire frame, wondering just why I had to have some bitter bite back to everything. Especially to those who just risked their bloody lives to help me from harming myself, harming innocent others.

One of the worsts things was, I think, that it wasn't entirely the beast talking, trying to get out, it was just... Me. It was me, bitterly spitting at my mates, my kind and giving mates. How they put up with me, I didn't know. And why I didn't even apologise... Perhaps I was just an arse.

I sighed.

He sat up, giving a sort of stretch, then stood and ruffled my hair. "I bet you're starved."

"Famished."

But also sore as hell. I knew he'd offer to go out to breakfast, as he did most days after, but I couldn't bring myself to move from this chair for the life of me. I could sit there for hours, it was the most comfortable I'd been all week, despite the wounds, cuts, and bruises. I could fall asleep right there on the table, just as Sirius had done.

And so I did.


End file.
